


Writing Prompts (II)

by Eleint



Series: Write [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Amends, Dreams, Fairy Tale Tropes, Friendship, Nightmares, Personification, Regrets, Stream of Consciousness, Unfinished Business, noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleint/pseuds/Eleint
Summary: Short writing exercises





	1. Night

The time is 4 am.

The night is young and doesn't care about the morning. 

Too soon, the dew will blanket grass and trees, too soon the birds will begin their songs. 

But in this moment, the night, with its outstretched arms, feels like it will never end.


	2. Unfinished business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story you've always wanted to write.

“There you are!” 

Shana turns in confusion, her reverie broken by the bright voice behind her. It’s Grace, slowly making her way down the dockside. She hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a decade, and from the looks of it, she hadn’t really changed one bit. Somehow, she really hasn’t grown into her limbs. 

Some of her confusion must show, because Grace laughs. 

“Gods, whatever happened to the one who no one could sneak up on? Hi, sorry am I interrupting?”

Shana shakes her head, she’d just been ready to call it a night, now that the sun had set. But seeing her brings up a lot of memories she thought she’d left behind her. She crosses her arms, stepping back from the dock’s edge. 

“Do you want some tea?” Her place was nearby, it would only be polite… She fidgets with the buttons on her jacket.

Grace’s smile softens. “No, thanks. I was just passing through.” She hesitates, collecting herself with a shrug. “I mean – if I didn’t work up the nerve to see you now, when would I?” 

“You can only live with so many regrets, right?” Grace stares out into the water, back to Shana. “At least I knew you were alive with all those read receipts when I texted.”

“Grace,” Shana starts, she’s relieved, so relieved that her space would still be _hers_ but it does make her wonder about some of her own actions over the years. “You know that I am glad to see you…”

She shakes her head, cutting her off with a smile. “For a while, I thought you would at least come visit, but you really wanted to be out of that town. We didn’t make it any easier.” She sobers.

Silence falls between them, as they both look at each other. The fading light casts long shadows over Grace’s face, and it’s then that Shana’s struck by how odd this is. A lot has changed, and even though they were friends, there were notes here that they no longer knew. 

“Anyway,” Grace says, “this is going to sound weird, but I need a favour.”

 _Oh no, here it is._ Shana thinks, the anxiety really biting at her, but she doesn’t have the heart to leave. 

“If Sandi calls, and she might — can you just pick up? I know you hate each other now, but she still has your number.” She sticks her hands in her pockets. “I’m sorry to ask this, but it’s important.” 

Grace waits until Shana nods.

It’s like she deflates with the answer, whatever had been keeping her up evaporates. 

“Good. Thanks. I — I’ll see you when I see you then.” Grace says. “Good night.” She walks back over the uneven planks, disappearing into the forest, Shana watching as she goes, somehow it seems to take forever. 

It takes some time for Shana to finally walk back towards her house, the little cabin off the edge of the lake. The moon’s hidden behind clouds, an owl hoots somewhere off in the distance. 

She wants to put the whole conversation out of her mind, but Grace knew both of them, her coming by was as much a warning as a friendly visit. She never was one to rock the boat. 

She had just hung up her coat where her phone rang. 

“Sandi,” she says. Just what would be this important? 

She hears unsteady breathing on the line. 

“Shana, there’s been an accident.”


	3. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue only.

"You’re a sonnuva gun, you know that?"

"Uh, hi to you too."

"I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to your wedding!"

"While you were off chasing ancient pottery, away from any sort of regular contact, not to mention civilization?"

" _Tch_. You still could’ve. Now I’m obligated to curse your first born. Time honored tradition."

"You only wish. Come on, I'll buy you a coffee and you can tell me all about that trip."


	4. Noir: Unused RP starter

Tucked away behind the all-night pharmacy and the CVS is a door; Unmarked and unremarkable, the peeling paint hiding the sturdy wooden frame. Most pass by, but every once in a while it sees visitors.

Nobody ever knocks. 

A woman scribbles industriously behind a desk, not looking up as the small bells chime. 

"Don't tell me, you fell." Professional, and curt. Questions aren't welcome here. 

She finishes with the papers she's working on, tucking them away under a red leather folder. 

"Take a seat, I'll be with you in a moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's familiar with the movie Lucky Number Slevin....


	5. Noir: and the band played on

Prohibition may have been over, but folks who'd made a pretty penny off of it don't take kindly to infringement. Racketeering was still profitable, and every bar paid their dues if they knew what was good for them. 

He watches the door through the haze of smoke, half-heartedly plucking at the bass; the same four notes over and over, while the rest of the band plays over him. He senses more than sees when someone new joins the crowd, a ripple running through it like electricity, but he _can't_ see anything. 

He pulls his hat lower, just in case. No one pays attention to the bassist anyway, too busy watching as the trumpeter prances and flirts with the singer. They're hamming it up, milking their chemistry and playing the crowd as well as their did their respective instruments. They'll need it. This gig paid in pennies. 

The song comes to a close, and he stills the strings, everyone walking off for a breather. It's enough time for him to abandon the bass against the back wall, nodding to the actual bassist who had agreed to the switcharoo and make his way to the back storeroom, and the instrument cases within. 

He flicks the clasps, checking them one by one.

Jackpot. 

His contact had come through.


	6. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disjointed

Light. 

That’s the first thing you notice. A yellow incandescent glow you don’t often get nowadays, with LEDs and florescent tubes being at the forefront of the environmentally (and monetarily) conscious. 

Light. Soft and fuzzy, like the edges of a dream. 

Because this is a dream. 

And you must run. 

So you do. Away from whatever is after you. 

Through endless hallways and loops, an interlocking maze of hidden passages in a shopping complex which has seen better days. 

And it works. For a while. 

They stay far, far behind you. 

But then, you get tired. 

And you find that the roads and hidden paths aren't so hidden anymore. 

There are no tricks or turns you can take that aren't known to others, and you start running into them. 

You clash.

You get hurt. 

And it begins all over again. 

Endlessly.

Ceaselessly. 

You don't wake up.


End file.
